


Only Yours

by JEAikman



Series: The Musketeers - prompts and one-shots [6]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, mutual nightmares, why do i do these things to the precious babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 23:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1204561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JEAikman/pseuds/JEAikman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>d'Artagnan wakes from an awful nightmare of Athos dying. He doesn't expect to find the man himself awake at this time in the morning - drinking, to boot.<br/>They have a conversation, and there are forget-me-nots and angsty feelings and cuddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Yours

D'Artagnan woke with a start, covered in a cold sweat. Breathing harshly and blinking furiously, he remembered his nightmare with a gasp.

_Athoswasdeaddeadhewasn'tmovingwhywasthatwomantherewhyisthereatreewhyistherearope-_ He took a deep breath, but he was still shaking - his whole body was trembling. He clutched his knees to his chest and tried to steady himself - it was just a dream, only a dream. Why did it terrify him so? Another flash of the dream came to him when he closed his eyes against the world.

_It was that woman. The one who had framed him for murder after they'd spent the night together. The one who'd left him forget-me-nots. Why those flowers in particular? But he was watching, helpless, bound, as she led Athos to the gallows beneath the tree - and despite d'Artagnan's protest, he followed her, as if in a daze. There were forget-me-nots again. She'd placed them into his hair. She was smirking so coldly. She was deadly. She was frightening._

**"She Frightened me, d'Artagnan** "Constance's terrified words came back to him in that moment, and he knew that the woman he'd met was more than capable of murder - what if she _did_ kill Athos? What would he do if that happened? But why would she want to do it? He shook his head and stood. There was no way he was getting back to sleep, so he opened the door to go and see if he could find himself a glass of water.

 

What he didn't expect when he did so, of course, was Athos himself sitting on the table with a haunted look on his face, and a bottle of wine in his hand. D'Artagnan frowned.

"I thought you were cutting down?" He asked. Athos just sighed and grunted, playing with a locket on a chain that d'Artagnan knew had come from his wife. The Gascon boy was not so much of an oblivious idiot as some people might think, so he just sat down next to his lover and sighed. " _Her_ again, is it?" he tried not to sound bitter - he really did. But he really needed the attention of his lover right now, and if some assassin ex-wife was able to take it from him without even trying, well then-

 

But Athos looked up at him sharply, and d'Artagnan could see tears in his eyes.

"I...she killed you. In the dream, I mean. And- I couldn't get that image out of my mind." D'Artagnan's heart did a funny little flop at that. It seemed he wasn't the only one.

"I suppose not exactly having to imagine me in a deadly situation helps at all, does it?" He asked with a humourless smile. Athos merely hummed in agreement. He put the locket down on the table and looked up at d'Artagnan uncertainly.

"What has _you_ up so early, mon petit Gascon?" He asked, and it was all the boy could do to keep from remembering - _whywasitsoclearwhywhynoAthosdon'tdieifyoudiebyhangingiamtakingitverypersonally._

He managed to smile and shake his head. "Oh, nothing really, just the fact that the bed was so _cold_ without someone there to keep it warm with me." Athos frowned at him, and shook his head.

"That's not it, d'Artagnan. Tell me." D'Artagnan's eyes darted from him to the table to avoid his gaze, and caught on the locket. It had opened with the force that Athos had slammed it down with. And inside were-

Were pressed-

Pressed forget-me-nots.

_Forget-me-nots_.

His eyes widened. That couldn't be. That was mad. No. No way. He did not have sex with Athos's ex-wife.

"d'Artagnan?" Athos reached out towards him carefully, as if trying to approach a wounded animal. "You had a dream as well, didn't you?" He nodded, slowly, as if the admittance hurt him.

"What happened?" The older man pressed. D'Artagnan just shook his head. Athos took a deep breath. He could be patient. He _could_. But the way d'Artagnan was acting was confusing him.

"There was a woman I met the first night I came to Paris. She... we. Well. And then I woke up in the morning and there was a bloody dagger on the pillow next to me and she'd kind of slit someone's throat. So then I had to run away. But then, more recently, apparently Constance met her, and told me she frightened her. And this is Constance. She. Nothing frightens her. But then i... there were... she left forget-me-nots on my pillow. Forget-me-nots."

"What happened in the dream, d'Artagnan?" Athos asked softly, realising and dreading where this was going, just what d'Artagnan's subconscious had figured out.

"She killed you. And I couldn't do anything. You didn't hear anything I said. And she. The tree. The one you were standing at, that time. She..." He broke down into sobs. Not quiet ones, either. Awful, heart-wrenching sobs which wracked his whole body. "I just... I woke up feeling so helpless and you _weren't there_."

 

Athos was at his side in a minute, holding the boy tight to his chest, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"I'm here now. Shh, we'll figure this out - somehow." He promised into the top of d'Artagnan's head as the boy slowly managed to get his breathing under control. He gripped Athos tightly, as if he were the only thing in the world he had left to hold onto.

"Don't ever leave me?" He asked, his voice small.

"You know I can't-" But d'Artagnan shook his head against his lover's chest, still shaking.

"Please, please lie to me. Just for now. Promise me we'll always be fine and that nothing can come between us-" He took a deep breath, trying to hold himself together. "I just need to pretend that everything's alright. That we're not in the middle of ridiculous conspiracies and murderous ex-wives and cardinals and musketeers. Just pretend we're only us."

"Just Athos" The older man murmured, and d'Artagnan nodded, glad that he understood.

"Just _my_ Athos." He added, but said man drew away, and lifted up the boy's chin so he could look at him seriously.

"Only yours, always yours. Don't doubt that, ever. That much will always be true. That much I _can_ promise. I told you before, did I not - there is only you. I care about you more than I have cared for anyone." He paused for breath, before continuing. "If anything were to happen to you, my world would be torn asunder - I know they were just dreams, but I will not let her take you from me. She will take _nothing_ from me, ever again. I would die before-" d'Artagnan glared at him.

"No dying." He insisted. "No more talk of dying, of trees, of flowers, of burning houses. And no more talk of _her_. Ever. Unless it is to tell me how utterly short she falls of my... talents" He gave a smirk, and Athos was glad.

"I think we need to figure this out in a more comfortable setting." Seeing what he was getting at, d'Artagnan raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, I admit, right now, I could definitely use some comfort sex."

" _d'Artagnan!_ " Athos exclaimed, doing his best to look scandalised. "Must you country folk be so crude?" The boy just raised an eyebrow.

"I can refrain, if it please you, Monsier le Comte." He teased. Athos just about pounced on him. Well, he would

Later.

They had to get to the bedroom, first.


End file.
